Gray skies and acting like a chicken

Ever had those times when it’s hard to find something to say? Where everything feels like a case of ‘been there, done that’ and those thoughts doing a slow pass through your brain are on their ga-zillionth go-round?

Maybe it’s the weather since the rains have arrived; something about the humidity weighs the gray matter down? Or there simply are too many shades of gray? It tends to make a person feel dull and heavy of mind. It’s hard to find things to prattle on about.

That was me facing this blank page. Before the rain we’d walked plenty and taken too many pictures after picking up a monopod for the camera. The monopod has made a big difference in the quality of the shots.   IMG_0432

Walking puts us into scenes we’d been missing while sitting inside watching television in our former life.IMG_0438

Other than our renewal with nature,  Man-wonder has been studying fly tying books and reading fishing stories while I’ve been nose deep in the usual half-dozen or so whodunit books, a couple of mid-grade books and jumping between a couple of  ‘hmmm, let’s peel the zipper back and check out your insides’ books.

Oh, yeah, we’ve also spent the necessary 30 minutes (per week) housecleaning our small space and another 2 hours debating about what else we can let go of. Sometimes I think we’re secretly aiming for a future home half the present size. (So secretly, we haven’t admitted it to ourselves yet.)

But other than that, it’s been a week where I haven’t had much to say other than the same old, same old.

Well, except for this morning.

I was sitting in Man-wonder’s chair, in the corner of the living area, in the pre-dawn, pondering life, when Man-wonder wandered into the room from the bedroom. He looked over to where I was, looked away, took a few more steps then stopped.

“Good morning.” I said from deep in his squooshy chair.

Good God! The man flapped his arms and let out a squawk like a chicken just spotting a deep-fryer. He actually jumped and tried to propel himself forward in mid-air before realization hit.

We’re not talking right now—mostly because I’m still chuckling over his chicken act.

 If this keeps up, next week has definite promise. . .

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